


Dirty Business

by snarechan



Category: Jak and Daxter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-13
Updated: 2005-07-13
Packaged: 2017-10-23 07:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarechan/pseuds/snarechan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sort of a filler-fic explaining how Keira first came to know and rather despise Krew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty Business

**Author's Note:**

> My third response to pip_malloy's anti-pairing challenge over at the stupendous LJ community of jak_fanfics.

As her eyes landed on the beat-up establishment, Keira couldn’t understand what she was doing here. A hesitant glance down at her hand and the piece of paper it held reminded her – she was here to request a driver for her team and supposedly the man at this bar could help. Both a fortunate and unfortunate circumstance, apparently. Shifting from one foot to the other, she bit her lip, eyeing the neon sign and the rusty door. Goodness, the outside of the dingy place didn’t even look sanitary…

Taking a huge whiff of air and nearly choking on it, she nodded firmly, deciding that the sooner she got this over with, the sooner she could return to the safety of her garage. As she took a hesitant step towards the entrance, it slid open on rusted hinges, revealing a dark and musty world beyond.

Once inside, she couldn’t help but just stand around, her eyes looking all over the place with barely a suppressed cringe. She was without a doubt not going to touch anything in this place, especially that mud pen-like area in the center of the room. She could only imagine what possible happenings occurred here after daylight hours. Actually, scratch that. It’d be safer for her sanity if she stopped all such trains of thought.

“Mmm, why hello there…” a breathy voice murmured from somewhere to her left, but when she looked, she only saw a pair of dainty feet hovering there. Startled, she tilted her head back to take in the overly large specimen of a man there in the floating seat, his toothy grin (or poor attempt at one) making her already standing-up hair practically go shooting off her arms.

Oh god, and the _smell_ …

“U-um, hi…are you…Krew?” she spoke through her teeth, hoping to use them as a sort of filter while attempting to breathe in this place.

“And what might your business be, Miss?” he asked, not bothering to hide his calculating stare as he maneuvered his hovercraft around her in a wide circle. “You wouldn’t happen to be that new bar mistress I requested, hmmm? A little over-dressed for the part, but that can be fixed.”

“What? No!” Keira protested, face a blazing and hands fisting. “I was actually directed here by someone who thought you could…um…” She finally faltered in her insult-tinted words, her eyes widening as he came in closer, presumably to hear better. Her eyes wavered on the several wrinkles of skin and single, brown mole inches from her nose. Remembering how rude it was to just stare, she shook her head, finishing her thought, “…find me a racer.”

At her last whispered words, he nodded, all his chins wobbling with the motion.

“Oh, I can find you anything you desire. For the right price, of course-”

“Money. Right,” she started nervously, not wanting to give this creep a chance to open up the bidding at anything else. “Not to sound paranoid, but before I pay you a dime, I’ll have to see whoever you send out in action, first.”

“Ah, a woman who knows how to make a proper dealing! I _like_ that in my women.”

Keira blanched.

-Fin-


End file.
